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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29901585">Cold as Ice (Year Two)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiantRainbowUnicornTaco/pseuds/GiantRainbowUnicornTaco'>GiantRainbowUnicornTaco</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hogwarts Mystery [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:41:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29901585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiantRainbowUnicornTaco/pseuds/GiantRainbowUnicornTaco</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Celena returns for her second year at Hogwarts. This year, she’ll face her first Cursed Vault, fight with Merula, and make a friend or two.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hogwarts Mystery [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Calm Before the Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The summer is pleasantly warm. The sun is often hidden behind clouds, but when it shows it’s golden face it sheds light and warmth. It’s as close to a perfect summer as we’re going to get in rainy Scotland.</p><p>It’s one of the hottest days of the summer. The sky is clear and blue, not a single cloud to block the sun. It blazes down on the ground, sending nearly everyone seeking the refuge of their houses.</p><p><em>Nearly </em>everyone. If it were any hotter, I have no doubt that I would be somewhere inside a cool house. As it is, I’m sitting under a tree, in the shade provided by its branches. My friend Nola is sitting next to me.</p><p>The tree is between our houses. It’s always been a popular spot for us to hang out. Once we wanted to build a tree house in its highest branches, but that never happened. My older brother Jacob offered to build one when he came home from school. That was right before he disappeared.</p><p>“So, how was your new school?” Nola asks, shaking me from my thoughts. </p><p>“Fine. Sorry I didn’t write much. I was really busy,” I say. It’s true, but it’s not the only reason I rarely wrote to Nola.</p><p>“What was it like? Just a normal school?” Nola asks.</p><p>“How would I know? It’s the first time I’ve been to school.” No, Hogwarts isn’t normal, not by Nola’s standards. It’s a big part of the reason for my lack of letters. I struggled to find something to write when I had to keep so much a secret.</p><p>“I always wondered why your parents insisted on homeschooling you,” Nola says. “You could have gone to school with me.”</p><p>I shrug. “I don’t know,” I lie. It’s customary for magical children to be homeschooled, to hide their magic. Most times, they aren’t even allowed to have contact with Muggles. My friendship with Nola is a rare thing.</p><p>“Did you make any friends there?” Nola asks. I hear sadness in her voice. Does she think I’ve replaced her?</p><p>“Yeah. I think you’d like them.” I try to think of what to say, how to tell her about my friends without saying anything I shouldn’t. “Especially Rowan. She really loves to read. Her parents own a tree farm.”</p><p>“I know. You wrote me at Christmas. Is Rowan your new best friend?” The sadness is still clear in Nola’s voice.</p><p>“My best <em>school </em>friend. No one can replace you.” I thought this would reassure her, but instead she only looks more upset.</p><p>“We’re going camping this weekend.” Nola changes the subject, her expression changing to a smile. She got braces sometime during the year. “Want to come?”</p><p>“I have to ask my parents, but I’m sure they’ll say yes.” I’ve gone camping with Nola several times before, since the summer we were seven.</p><p>“All right. You know what to bring.” She suddenly points up at the sky, where single puffy white cloud has appeared. “Look, a mouse!”</p><p>I look up as well. It really does resemble a mouse. I lie on the ground, and Nola lies next to me. We point to every cloud that appears, describing its shape. In between talking about clouds, we finish catching up on everything that’s happened in the past few months. I choose my words carefully. I tell Nola all I can, but I’m more aware than ever of how much is left unsaid, and the secrets will always divide us.</p>
<hr/><p>The next day, I help Nola set up our tent while her parents set up theirs. We unroll our sleeping bags and leave the rest of our stuff next to them. Hanging from a tree nearby is a large tire. It’s suspended by three chains so that it hangs parallel to the ground. The two of us sit on opposite sides with our legs in the middle. We use our feet to push off the ground and spin, before lifting our feet, causing the tire to start spinning in the opposite direction.</p><p>When it starts to get dark, we gather around the campfire, roasting hot dogs and marshmallows on sticks.</p><p>I finish the last bite of my s’more. <em>Delicious. </em>Nola swallows the last chunk of hers. “You ready for a ghost story?”</p><p>“Of course. You learn any good ones this year?”</p><p>Nola smiles mysteriously. “You’ll have to wait and see.”</p><p>She leans back, settling comfortably onto the log we’re sharing. “Once, there was a small town near a woods like this one, only much smaller. Legends in that town spoke of a monster that hid in the woods. Legend said that it lured its prey by imitating a crying child. Because of this, everyone in town avoided the woods.</p><p>“Two boys, brothers, did not believe in the legend. They split up to explore the little woods, hoping to prove once and for all that the fear of the townsfolk was for nothing.</p><p>“At five that evening, one brother returned home. The other did not. A search the next day revealed that the boy had fallen into a hole and gotten stuck, breaking his arm in the process. No one could tell what had killed him.</p><p>“As the townsfolk mourned the young boy, they realized that many of them had heard him crying for help during the night. All of them avoided the sound, fearing the monster in the woods.”</p><p>A shiver runs down my spine as I imagine the little boy, alone, helpless, crying, and being ignored by a town so afraid that they left a young boy to die rather than confront the monster he might be. “That one was good,” I say. Nola loves telling ghost stories, so it’s become our tradition to tell them every time we go camping.</p><p>Nola smiles. “Thanks. I learned a lot of good ones this year.”</p><p>It’s getting late, so we crawl into our tent. Nola falls asleep almost immediately. I lie awake for a while longer, listening to the rhythmic sound of her breathing. How long can our friendship last now that I’m going to Hogwarts? Now that the secret part of my life has gotten so much bigger? I don’t want to lose my first friend, but I don’t know how to keep her from slipping away.</p><p>Finally, I fall asleep. Despite my troubled thoughts, I do not dream.</p>
<hr/><p>The next morning, I return home to an empty house and a stack of letters on the kitchen counter. The top one is from Mum, explaining that she ran out to get some groceries, and Dad went to the gym.</p><p>The other letters must be from my friends. I open the second letter, smiling as I recognize Rowan’s handwriting.</p><p>
  <em>Celena,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I finally translated the message we found last year. I was having trouble decoding it until I discovered an old book on ciphers that had fallen behind our couch.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The runes used to write this message are ancient, dating back to the founding of Hogwarts. The message simply says, “The ice knight stands guard past the vanished stairs”.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I would have written to you sooner, but I took some time to compile a list of staircases in Hogwarts that no longer seem to exist. At first there was an overwhelming number, but after checking the dates of the last time each staircase was seen, I reduced the list to two likely candidates.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>One was inside the Gryffindor common room. That one will be difficult to investigate, but perhaps Ben will be willing to help us.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The other one was in a small wing behind the library. This is where we should concentrate our investigations.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will be in Diagon Alley on August 13th. Meet me in front of Flourish and Blotts at nine-thirty.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rowan.</em>
</p><p>I find a piece of parchment and a quill and scribble a quick letter of acknowledgment. I send it off with our family’s owl, a Barn Owl named Willa.</p><p>Underneath is a letter from Ben, a reply to the one I sent him a week ago. As a Muggleborn, he doesn’t have an owl of his own, so he had to use mine. Ben is nervous, afraid of many things, but not birds.</p><p><em>I finally managed to convince my parents to let me get an owl of my own, </em>his letter says. <em>When are you going to Diagon Alley? I need your help finding the right one.</em></p><p>I write to him my plan to meet Rowan on August twelfth, wishing that I hadn’t sent Willa off so soon. I’ll have to wait until she gets back from the Khannas farm.</p><p>The next letter is brief. It contains a picture of Penny with Ethan Parkin. I smile, happy that Penny got to meet her hero. This is the first letter I’ve gotten from her. As the most popular girl in our year, she had a lot of other people to write to, and one owl can only carry so many letters.</p><p>I hesitate, wondering if Penny will have time to respond if I write to her again. Finally, I simply tell her when Rowan and I will be in Diagon Alley. She can meet us there, or not.</p><p>The last letter is from Alana. Like Ben, she’s Muggleborn, but she already has her own owl. She’s attending a pottery camp this summer. <em>Wait until you see what I’ve made. When are you going to Diagon Alley? I’ll meet you there, </em>her letter says.</p><p>I scribble a reply on yet another scrap of parchment. <em>Rowan and I are meeting on August thirteenth. We’ll be in front of Flourish and Blotts at nine-thirty. I can’t wait to see what you’ve made.</em></p><p>I put down my quill, happy to have finished. I’m glad for any contact with my friends, of course, but I never know how to start a letter. “Dear” seems too formal, “hi” too strange, just a name too direct.</p><p>The days until August twelfth crawl past. Ben and Alana agree to meet us. Penny apologizes, writing that she’s already agreed to meet some of her other friends that day. It’s what I expected. We’ll see her during the year, whenever she has time.</p><p>Finally, the day I’ve been waiting for arrives. Mum gives me an amused look as I try to get her to hurry up.</p><p>“The world won’t end if you’re a few minutes late, you know,” she says, finishing the last bite of her breakfast. She worked late last night, and so she woke up late as well. It’s already nine-twenty.</p><p>I roll my eyes. “Come <em>on.”</em></p><p>“I’m coming,” Mum sighs, collecting her things. Finally, <em>finally, </em>she steps into the fireplace, disappearing into the green flames.</p><p>I make a face as I step out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron. I met Rowan last year when we were both feeling nauseous after traveling by Floo powder. Today, though, I resist the urge to sit down. I grab Mum’s arm and drag her away before she can get drawn into a lengthy conversation. I would find my friends on my own, but Mum insisted on meeting them.</p><p>Rowan, Ben, and Alana are already in front of Flourish and Blotts, along with their parents, who evidently had the same idea as Mum. Rowan’s seven-year-old brother Finch is also there, playing with a blob of bright blue slime.</p><p>“That’s his new obsession,” Rowan whispers. “No more sour ice cream, thankfully.”</p><p>I introduce myself to Ben and Alana’s parents, glad that my name doesn’t cause a reaction. They only know as me as a friend of their child, not the little sister of Jacob Serantos.</p><p>“Ben’s told us a lot about you,” Mr. Copper says, giving me a firm handshake. “We’re happy he made such good friends at school.”</p><p>I sneak a glance at Ben, wondering if he had any friends at his Muggle school. Based on how everyone else in our year treats him, it doesn’t seem likely.</p><p>The four of us slip away, leaving our parents chatting outside. Our first stop is, of course, Flourish and Blotts, because we’re standing right in front of it, and because three of us are Ravenclaws.</p><p>Once we’ve gotten all of our supplies, we stop at Eeylop’s Owl Emporium to find Ben an owl.</p><p>“Mum said I have to get one that’s small, and not super crazy. And it has to be young, because she doesn’t want to end up getting attached only for it to die right away,” Ben says. His mum doesn’t like birds, which is why it took him so long to get permission to have one.</p><p>“That’s quite the list,” I say, looking around for an owl that fits the requirements.</p><p>In the end, it’s Rowan who spots the perfect owl, a Pygmy Owl named Primrose. The card on her cage says that she’s a year old, and timid. Ben falls in love with her instantly and promises to give her lots of treats and do everything he can to make her feel relaxed.</p><p>At Alana’s insistence, our last stop is Fortescue’s. I’m dying to discuss Rowan’s research, but first, Alana has gifts for us.</p><p>“I made these at camp. This one’s yours,” she says, handing Rowan a small parcel that turns out to be a clay book, painted blue. The cover has a capital R on it for Rowan.</p><p>For Ben, there’s a little owl that has a shocking resemblance to Primrose. “I knew your mum would make you get something small, so I figured it would either be an Elf Owl or a Pygmy Owl,” Alana says with a shrug.</p><p>My package contains a four-leaf clover, a symbol of good luck. “You need it, with all the trouble you get into,” Alana says.</p><p>“Thanks, Alana.” I tuck the little clover into one of my bags, on top of a new set of potions ingredients. “Speaking of getting into trouble, Rowan figured out what that message in the room last year said.</p><p>“‘The ice knight stands guard past the vanished stairs,” Rowan recites. She explains the rest of her research to Brn and Alana, pulling out a map with the locations of the staircases circled. I look at it with interest. Is one of them the location of the first Cursed Vault?</p><p>“I’ll look for this one,” Ben says, pointing to the Gryffindor common room on the map. “It might be a while before I get a chance, though. The common room only empties out during Quidditch matches.”</p><p>“That’s fine,” I assure him. “We need more time to plan, anyways.”</p><p>“I’ll research spells that are used to reveal hidden things, and see if we can learn any of them,” Rowan offers.</p><p>“We need warmer clothing,” Alana says, thinking practically. “Remember how cold that room was? I bet the vault will be even colder.”</p><p>Just the memory of the frozen room is enough to make me shiver. “Sweaters, and hats, and gloves, and scarves.”</p><p>I shiver again, lost in the memories of last year. Suddenly piercing cold shoots through me, sending bolts of pain through my body. My breath comes in ragged gasps. I hear a concerned voice say my name, but they might as well be a thousand miles away.</p><p>Gray fog clouds my vision, obscuring my friends. Slowly, it clears a little, but instead of a table with four bowls of ice cream, I see strange images. A staircase with golden light glowing around the corner... a corridor lined with suits of armor... another staircase, this one covered in ice, or perhaps made from it... a giant knight in front of a door blocked with a massive snowflake... something shifting and indistinct that makes me vaguely uneasy... a giant spider... a dragon in front of a painting of a sunrise... a room with a golden pillar in the center...</p><p>The room fades into the fog, which finally clears. I realize that I’m clutching my head, and lower my hands. My bowl is shattered on the ground. I must have knocked it off the table.</p><p>My friends are staring at me with concern. Rowan’s expression melts into one of relief when she sees that I’ve opened my eyes. “Celena! Are you all right?”</p><p>“I saw things,” I pant, struggling to recall the images before they fade away like the fog they came from. “In my mind. They flashed by so quickly!”</p><p>“What did you see?” Rowan asks urgently, quill in hand. She flips the map over and looks at me expectantly.</p><p>“I think it was... suits of armor... a staircase... there was a giant spider and a dragon... and there were rooms with an odd glowing pillar in them... oh, and a knight surrounded by ice!” There’s something I’m forgetting, I know there is. </p><p>“This is the second vision you’ve had,” Rowan says. “What do you think it means?”</p><p>“I don’t-“</p><p>I’m cut off by a voice inside my head. It’s oddly familiar, yet I’m certain I’ve never heard it before. <em>“The ice is only the beginning.”</em></p><p>I repeat what the voice said. Rowan looks thoughtful. “So maybe you saw inside the vaults,” she suggests. “I wonder if this vision comes to anyone who searches for them?”</p><p>Did my brother see what I saw? Were visions like this what made people think he was insane?</p><p>I rub my arms, but I can’t chase away the cold that lingers from my vision. I may have left that icy room, but when is it going to leave <em>me?</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Welcome Back to Trouble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“To our new students, welcome. To our old students, welcome back,” Professor Dumbledore announces with a sweep of his arms, indicating the majestic ceiling of the Great Hall. Today it shows a starry night sky, white pinpricks shining against deep blue.</p><p>“Focus on your studies, make time for your friends,” Professor Dumbledore continues, “but above all else be careful as you journey about the castle. Every year at Hogwarts is an interesting one, but something tells me this year has more surprises than most.”</p><p>My friends and I know, of course, that at least part of his warning refers to the Cursed Vaults. Whether some other danger will appear, we can’t predict.</p><p>“Enough of my grand proclamations and ominous warnings.” The seriousness has disappeared from Dumbledore’s voice. “Please enjoy the feast.”</p><p>The plates in front of us fill with various types of food. I spoon mashed potatoes onto my plate, listening to the chattering of the new first-years. Those with magical parentage are explaining everything to the Muggleborns.</p><p>Here in the crowded Great Hall, Rowan, Alana, and I can’t discuss what we really want to, so we spend the feast discussing this year’s curriculum with a level of enthusiasm that would make most other students instantly declare us to be huge nerds. Which we are.</p><p>We observe this year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, a woman who looks like she’s only just graduated from Hogwarts. In fact, I think I might have seen her last year as a student.</p><p>“Think she’ll be any good?” I ask. There’s no need to clarify who I’m talking about. There’s only one new professor on the staff.</p><p>Rowan shrugs. “There’s no way to know until we have her. She wasn’t a prefect, was she?”</p><p>Alana shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”</p><p>When the feast ends, instead of heading straight to the common room, I walk over to the Gryffindor table to find Ben. Rowan and Alana walk to the Hufflepuff table to find Penny and update her on everything she’s missed.</p><p>Ben is sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table, ignored by those surrounding him. It could be worse. At least they aren’t teasing him.</p><p>Ben stares down at his plate dejectedly, not looking up when I approach. I say his name, and he finally looks up. “Hey, Celena.” He sounds exhausted, and there are dark circles under his eyes.</p><p>I frown. “Are you all right?”</p><p>“Fine. I just didn’t sleep well last night,” Brn mumbles, looking down at his plate again. The Great Hall is almost empty now, and I know we don’t have much time. “Want to play Gobstones tomorrow? Maybe it will help you relax.”</p><p>Ben suddenly stands up, but he keeps his head lowered, still refusing to make eye contact. “I-I don’t know. I might be busy tomorrow. I don’t know.” A familiar tremor of fear has entered his voice, but I have no idea what could possibly be making him so afraid.</p><p>Ben walks quickly, joining the stream of students leaving the Great Hall. I walk after him, but he ignores me when I ask him to wait.</p><p>I give up and return to the Ravenclaw common room. I walk up the stairs to my old dormitory, which is now the second-year girls’ dorm.</p><p>Rowan and Alana are already there, as is Tulip Karasu. There’s no sign of Helena Ross or Badeea Ali. Perhaps they’re still in the common room.</p><p>I join Rowan and Alana at Rowan’s bed. Alana shoots Tulip a nervous look and speaks in a whisper. “We talked to Penny. She agreed to meet us in the courtyard tomorrow, but we didn’t have time to tell her anything. Did you talk to Ben?”</p><p>I frown, remembering Ben’s odd behavior. “Yes, but he was acting really strange. He hadn’t slept, and he wouldn’t look at me. When I tried to ask him to meet us, he ran off.”</p><p>“Weird,” Alana agrees. “Try talking to him again tomorrow.”</p><p>“I will,” I say.</p><hr/><p>A few days later, we have our first day of classes. Our first class is Transfiguration, my least favorite.</p><p>Today, we’re reviewing the un-Transfiguration spell, <em>Reparifarge. </em>We each have a cauldron that was once a cat, and we have to make it a cat again.</p><p>This is one of the only Transfigurations that I actually practiced outside of class, so I manage it on the first try. I spend the rest of the class feeding my cat small bits of salmon from the feast yesterday and petting it. My cat purrs, rubbing her head on my hand.</p><p>I hear Professor McGonagall’s voice nearby and automatically listen, even though she’s talking to Alana, not me. Eavesdropping is a bad habit, but one I’m in no hurry to break.</p><p>“Your skill in Transfiguration belies your years, Miss Morgan,” Professor McGonagall praises Alana. “Would you be interested in private lessons outside of class?”</p><p>I never realized that Alana was so good at Transfiguration. I feel ashamed for not noticing. Alana responds, so quietly that I can barely make out the words.</p><p>“Yes, professor,” she says.</p><p>“I will send you an owl, and we can discuss what time will work for you,” Professor McGonagall says. I hurriedly pull out the summer homework before she notices me eavesdropping.</p><p>Our homework over the summer was to write an essay explaining the Transfiguration formula, a review from the beginning of our first year. Today’s homework is to practice some of last year’s curriculum. I’ll practice some things, but nothing involving an animal.</p><p>During lunch, I try to find Ben, but he isn’t in the Great Hall. I return to the Ravenclaw table, deciding to talk to him during Charms.</p><p>Charms is our shortest class of the day. Just like last year, we separate into Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, with Rowan and I in the front, closest to Professor Flitwick, and Alana on the other side of me, in the middle of the aisle. Ben is opposite Rowan. I try to catch his eye several times during class, but he’s always looking somewhere else.</p><p>Like in Transfiguration, we spend the class reviewing last year’s curriculum, beginning with <em>Lumos </em>and working our way forwards. When we get to <em>Wingardium Leviosa, </em>I pause in my spellcasting to watch Skye Parkin. I tutored her in this subject last year, and this was her weakest spell.</p><p>Skye easily levitates the feather and looks across the aisle at me. I grin and give her a thumbs up. She improved a lot last year.</p><p>When the class ends, I try to make my way over to Ben, but Skye cuts me off. I try not to let my frustration show.</p><p>I force a smile, hoping that it looks real. It should. I’ve had plenty of practice. “What time do you want to work on Charms? Same time as last year?”</p><p>“I don’t know yet. The Quidditch tryouts for the open Chaser position are in two weeks. I have to see if I make the team,” Skye says. She’s the daughter of a famous Quidditch player. I have a hard time believing she won’t make the team.</p><p>When I tell her this, Skye smiles gratefully. “Thanks. I also wanted to ask if you would come to the tryouts. For moral support.”</p><p>“Won’t it look weird if I go to another house’s Quidditch tryouts?” I ask.</p><p>“No. There are always people from other houses who show up. They’re scouting out the competition. Bring your friend.”</p><p>It’s obvious which friend Skye means. Penny is completely obsessed with the Parkins.</p><p>“We’ll be there,” I say. I look for Ben when I leave, but of course, he’s already gone.</p><p>Our last class of the day is Defense Against the Dark Arts, our first class with our new professor. She introduces herself as Professor Jordan. Up close, she looks even younger, young enough to be in her fifth or sixth year. She has wavy brown hair and a round face, and she’s only a few inches taller than me.</p><p>“Today we will be learning about imps,” she says in a trembling voice. “Imps are about six to eight inches tall. They live in deserts, and- Yes?”</p><p>Rowan lowers her hand and points to a paragraph in her open textbook. “The textbook says that imps live in wet, marshy areas.”</p><p>Professor Jordan looks flustered. “Yes, that’s correct. My mistake. Ten points to... Ravenclaw, is it?”</p><p>Rowan nods. It looks like it’s going to be another year of learning straight from the textbook.</p><p>After Rowan corrects her again- imps eat insects, not fruit- Professor Jordan abandons her lecture and simply has us take turns reading sections from the textbook. Our homework is to write an essay on imps. I hope Professor Jordan grades it correctly.</p><hr/><p>Two weeks later, Penny and I go to the Gryffindor tryouts to support Skye. There are lots of people there, far too many for all of them to be Gryffindors.</p><p>“Everyone wants to see a Parkin play,” Penny whispers when I mention it to her.</p><p>Apart from Skye, there are six other people trying out for the open Chaser position, four who look like sixth- or seventh-years and two who look like third- or fourth-years. Skye is the youngest.</p><p>The captain, a girl I recognize as Angelica Cole, calls the seven of them to her. I can’t hear what she’s saying from the stands, but I assume she’s explaining how tryouts are going to work.</p><p>Three of the Chaser hopefuls mount their brooms, along with three other players. Penny explains that they’re the Beaters and Keeper.</p><p>The other three players, the two Chasers and Angelica, who must be Seeker, retreat to the stands. They watch with sharp eyes as the Chaser hopefuls try to work together to score goals while the Beaters hit Bludgers at them. Two of the boys are decent. The third nearly falls off his broom several times while trying to avoid the Bludgers. I wonder why he tried out when it’s clear that he isn’t ready for this.</p><p>Angelica calls the players down and tells two more of the Chaser hopefuls to mount their brooms. Skye is not one of them.</p><p>I watch as the process is repeated. Both of the Chaser hopefuls seem decent, although I’m no expert.</p><p>Skye and another girl, maybe a fourth-year, mount their brooms. Several people cheer. Skye looks up quickly, her face set in an expression of determination.</p><p>A Beater hits a Bludger towards Skye. She rolls neatly to avoid it, keeping her grip on the Quaffle. I know from when we learned barrel rolls last year that that’s a difficult maneuver to pull off. Skye’s an incredible flyer.</p><p>Skye throws the Quaffle to the other girl, who narrowly dodges a Bludger. She throws it back to Skye, who tosses it through one of the hoops.</p><p>The Keeper throws the Quaffle back to Skye. She catches it easily and throws it to the other girl.</p><p>A Bludger goes flying towards the othet girl. She ducks it but drops the Quaffle in the process. Skye goes into a dive, catching the Quaffle and corkscrewing to avoid another Bludger.</p><p>After a few more minutes, Angelica calls an end to the tryouts. The six members of the team gather to discuss the results, but their discussion is clear. There’s no way they aren’t going to choose Skye.</p><p>I consider making my way down to the field to congratulate Skye on her impressive flying, but she’s already been swarmed by other students. I leave, deciding to congratulate her tomorrow. Hopefully, she’ll understand my reluctance to deal with the crowd.</p><p>Sure enough, the next day brings news that Skye got the open Chaser position. I offer my congratulations at lunch that day, when people have calmed down a bit.</p><p>The day after that, Ben disappears.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Friend In Need</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ben misses double History of Magic that afternoon. That’s when I suspect that something is wrong. Ben would never skip class, not even one as boring as History of Magic.</p><p>“Rowan,” I whisper. “Have you seen Ben today?”</p><p>Rowan shakes her head. “No. He’s not here either.”</p><p>“Do you think he got hurt? Or maybe he’s sick?” Alana whispers.</p><p>I want desperately to believe that it could be so simple, but Ben’s odd behavior recently gives me a sick feeling that there’s something more happening here. “We can check after class,” I whisper, trying to remain optimistic.</p><p>As soon as Professor Binns dismisses us, we hurry to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey is giving a potion to a girl who looks sick and pale. Otherwise, the room is empty. Ben isn’t here.</p><p>Unfortunately, as we leave the Hospital Wing, we walk straight into Merula Snyde. I frown at her and give her a suspicious look. Merula bullied us last year until I dueled her, and won. We haven’t seen much of her this year, but it’s early yet. There’s still plenty of time for her to cause trouble.</p><p>Merula doesn’t say anything, merely smirking when I look at her. I roll my eyes and walk away. She follows, so close that I can feel her breath on the back of my neck.</p><p>I stop, and she walks into me. “What do you <em>want, </em>Merula?” I ask, making no effort to keep the frustration out of my voice. Ben is missing. I don’t have time to deal with her.</p><p>“I was just wondering if you’d had any luck finding your cowardly Mudblood friend.” Her tone is one I’ve heard many times before, a mixture of false sweetness, with a sharpness that makes her true meaning clear.</p><p>I roll my eyes. “Like you care about my friends.”</p><p>“I didn’t come because I care about your loser friends. I came because there’s something you need to know,” Merula answers smugly.</p><p>I want to walk away, but if she’s telling the truth, I have to let her speak. “Do you know what happened to Ben?”</p><p>“I know more than you. I know that sometimes even when people are missing, they’re right where they’re supposed to be,” Merula answers cryptically.</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>“There are things happening at this school that you could never begin to understand. Trying to uncover those things is going to get you killed.”</p><p>“Are you talking about the Cursed Vaults?” Ben can’t have gone looking for them on his own, can he? He wouldn’t even enter the locked room with the rest of us last year.</p><p>“You’ll find out soon enough,” Merula answers. “Unless, of course, you die first.”</p><p>Alana grabs my arm and yanks me away from the conversation. “If you aren’t going to help us find Ben, then stay away from us, Merula,” she says with frost in her voice.</p><p>“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, Serantos.”</p><p>Alana pulls me around the corner. “Why did you even talk to her?” she huffs. “You know she doesn’t really know anything we don’t. She’s pretending to make herself look better than us.”</p><p>“I know, but I had to make sure,” I say. “We need to find Ben.”</p><p>Rowan looks thoughtful. “Ben mentioned a room that he likes to hide in. The Artefact Room. It’s near the courtyard.”</p><p>“Let’s go,” I say, walking in the direction of the nearest staircase. “Maybe he left a note or something.”</p><p>The Artefact Room is a small room filled with cabinets and shelves. I spot a skull, among other things, on one of the shelves. I pick it up in horrified fascination, wondering if it’s real. Like everything else in the room, it’s covered in a thick layer of dust. I sneeze.</p><p>“I’ll search the shelves. You guys check the cabinets,” I order. There are fewer shelves than cabinets.</p><p>Rowan and Alana start examining the rows of cabinets, using <em>Alohomora </em>to open them. It’s clear most have been closed for a long time. The hinges squeal loudly when the cabinets are opened.</p><p>I set the skull aside and rummage through the various items- scrolls, a variety of interesting rocks and shells, even a weird necklace made of teeth. There’s nothing that looks like it might belong to Ben, but I do find a fascinating scroll detailing the behavior of Flesh-Eating Slugs. I set it aside, knowing Rowan will want to read it later.</p><p>Sometime later, Rowan gives an excited shout. “Celena, come look at this!”</p><p>I join her and Alana in front of one of the cabinets. Rowan pulls a small piece of parchment out and hands it to me.</p><p>“‘Initiation complete. Your next instructions have been Transfigured into a black quill and hidden in the Gryffindor common room. Failure to follow your instructions will result in severe punishment. Any mention of your instructions to an outsider will result in severe punishment. -R’,” I read. “Black quill? Who is R?”</p><p>“I don’t know, but if these notes are intended for Ben, we have to find the next one,” Rowan says.</p><p>“I wish we could tell Professor McGonagall about this, but we can’t risk getting Ben in more trouble,” I say. “We’ll have to find another way into the Gryffindor common room.”</p><p>“I’ll think of a plan,” Rowan says. “You and Alana focus on reviewing <em>Reparifarge.”</em></p><p>Alana gives her a sarcastic salute. “Aye aye, captain.” Despite the worry we all feel for Ben, we all laugh. </p><hr/><p>The weeks crawl by with no plan to get into the Gryffindor common room. Alana and I have been obsessively practicing <em>Reparifarge </em>every spare moment moment that we have. Professor McGonagall notices and compliments us on our hard work.</p><p>I ask Rowan several times if she’s thought of a plan. “Several, but none that would work,” she replies, frustrated. “We need a way to get past the portrait, a way to make sure no one comes back while you’re in there... there’s so much that has to go right.”</p><p>With <em>Reparifarge </em>mastered, Alana and I concentrate our efforts on helping Rowan form a plan. It’s difficult. The three of us huddle together in our dormitory, planning in whispers. We attract odd looks from our roommates, but nothing beyond that.</p><p>Finally, I remember something Ben said weeks ago, when we met in Diagon Alley. “Ben said that the common room is only empty during Quidditch matches,” I whisper to my friends. One piece of the plan has fallen into place. We’ve found a time. Next, we need a way in.</p><p>Rowan examines a list of ideas, most of them crossed out. “There!” She points at one. “I thought it wouldn’t work, at first. Professor Flitwick definitely wouldn’t recommend doing this, but I’m sure you’re good enough to…” She trails off, taking in our bemused looks. “What?”</p><p>Alana and I lean closer, studying the list. Rowan’s handwriting is neat, but tiny. “This one?” Alana points to the ninth item on the list, which simply says <em> Reducio/Engorgio.  </em></p><p>“Yeah. I know it’s hard to do, but you’re good with Charms, Celena. Not as good as Ben, but…” Rowan trails off, her gaze growing suddenly distant as she considers something. “The first Quidditch match is over a month away. Do you think Ben will still be missing then?”</p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully not. We can hope that the professors find him before then, but if they don’t, we’ll have to take matters into our own hands,” I say. To devote so much time to planning, only to have it all be for nothing… there is nothing I would love more. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>In Charms the next day, I’m more aware of Ben’s absence than ever. No one has filled his seat, leaving a gaping hole on the bench next to Pippa Macmillan. I try to keep my head down, try to avoid the painful reminder that Ben is still missing, but I can’t keep myself from sneaking glances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today, we’re learning the Tickling Charm, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rictusempra. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rowan, Ben, Alana, and I already know it. We learned it last year in preparation for my duel with Merula.</span>
</p><p>“Miss Serantos,” Professor Flitwick says. “Please pick a partner and demonstrate the Tickling Charm for us.”</p><p>I stand, throwing another glance at Ben’s empty seat. His name catches in my throat. If he was here, he would be my first choice.</p><p>
  <span>I feel tears forming. First Jacob went missing, and now Ben. Why does everyone keep disappearing?</span>
</p><p>I realize that I’m holding my wand up. I wish I could hex whatever is making the people I care about disappear, but all I’m doing is making people stare at me.</p><p>I take a deep breath, blink to clear the tears. Crying won’t help Ben.</p><p>
  <span>“Alana,” I say. Alana stands and lets me cast </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rictusempra </span>
  </em>
  <span>on her. Professor Flitwick awards us each ten points and moves on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sit down, ignoring the concerned look Rowan is giving me. For the first time, I don’t pay attention to Professor Flitwick’s lecture. Instead of writing down notes on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rictusempra, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I brainstorm ideas about how to keep the Gryffindors out of their common room. Maybe I couldn’t keep Jacob from disappearing, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>bring Ben back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway through class, the perfect idea hits me. I wait impatiently for Professor Flitwick to dismiss us. Finally, he does. I pause long enough to scribble down the homework before dashing out into the corridor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tulip hasn’t gotten far when I run up to her. “Hey, Tulip,” I pant. “I need your help with something. Mind meeting me in the Artefact Room after dinner?” Realizing that I haven’t mentioned what, to her, is the most important piece of information, I whisper, “It’s for a prank.”</span>
</p><p>Tulip’s eyes light up. “Can I bring Tonks, too?”</p><p>
  <span>I hesitate. I don’t like getting either of them in trouble, but I need a prankster’s help. On the other hand, they both get detention often enough that maybe it won’t bother them as much as it would me or Rowan. “If she wants to come,” I finally say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I leave Tulip with a mixture of relief and guilt. How can I ask Tulip to get detention for something one of us could easily do? But then, how can I keep her out of trouble when she can’t do it herself? At least the last piece of the plan has fallen into place. Now we can find that black quill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But these feelings are just a distraction, a way to avoid focusing on the creeping fear that works it’s way through my brain; the fear that we may be too late.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Growing and Shrinking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Easter! I actually finished this chapter a few days ago, but I thought this was a good time to post it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The day of the Quidditch match arrives with no news of Ben, no idea of when he might be found. I try to be optimistic. No news means no one has found his dead body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That morning, Tulip and I remain in our dormitory after everyone else has left for the match. I convinced Rowan and Alana to watch. They need something to take their minds off of Ben, and if they’re seen hovering around the Gryffindor common room, it won’t take a genius to figure out where I am.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lift my wand, pointing it at my chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Reducio,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I say. A stream of purple sparks flies from my wand.</span>
</p><p>The world blurs as I shrink rapidly. When it stops, I’m maybe four or five inches tall. The beds look like mountains, the posts as tall as trees.</p><p>
  <span>Tulip picks me up. “You’re so tiny,” she laughs. Her voice sounds deep, and very loud. I press my hands over my ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Tulip whispers. She holds up a harness with a Dungbomb on the back, and I slip it on. This is my cover. If anyone sees Tulip throw me into the common room, they will find the Dungbomb and stop searching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tulip places me in her pocket, and I crouch down to avoid being seen. It’s uncomfortable in her pocket; dark, hot, and stuffy. I can’t wait until I can get out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s movement as she walks to the Gryffindor common room. This is where she meets up with Tonks.</span>
</p><p>I hear the din of excited students pouring from the common room out to the Quidditch pitch. Normally, the noise level would be tolerable; to my tiny ears, it is deafening. I press my hands over my ears again, attempting to block out some of the onslaught of sound.</p><p>
  <span>Tulip reaches into her pocket. Her hand blocks out the light, and I’m briefly plunged into darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tulip’s fingers wrap gently around my torso, and she lifts me up. I take a deep breath, refreshing after the stifling atmosphere of her pocket. I keep my hands clamped over my ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last of the Gryffindors leave the common room, two boys so intent on their conversation about the upcoming match that they don’t notice Tulip tossing me through the portrait hole behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I land on a rug with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There’s no one else in there. I shrug off the Dungbomb, letting it fall to the carpet behind me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pull out my wand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Engorgio,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I say. With a shower of icy blue sparks, I’m returned to my usual size.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I search frantically, peering under tables, moving aside cushions on sofas and chairs, pulling back blankets over furniture. I would tear the room apart, but no one can know I was here. I even get down on my hands and knees to peer into the fireplace, thinking the quill might be hidden in the ash, but it isn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I move a stack of textbooks, but there’s nothing underneath. I study a statue of Godric Gryffindor, but it’s too heavy for me to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, I spot something black taped to the underside of a table. I peel back the white Spellotape and shove the quill into my pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hear the sound of a horn from outside. Tulip and Tonks rigged the entrance so that if anyone tried to get back in, they would set off a variation of a Dungbomb that results in an explosion of confetti. More importantly, it also makes a noise that allows it to be used as a signal.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Reducio,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I whisper, diving under the closest armchair. I lay still, my heart pounding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one comes in. Tulip must have convinced them to leave. Just to be sure, I wait until I hear her knock twice on the portrait before crawling out from under the armchair.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Engorgio,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I say. I open the portrait hole and close it behind me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Reducio.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I shrink down, allowing Tulip to hide me in her pocket again.</span>
</p><p>We make it back to our dormitory without being interrupted, where we meet Rowan and Alana. Helena and Badeea are elsewhere, perhaps still at the match.</p><p>
  <span>Tulip places me on the floor. I cast </span>
  <em>
    <span>Engorgio </span>
  </em>
  <span>on myself and return to my normal size.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you find it?” Rowan asks. I nod and take the black quill out of my pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Reparifarge,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I cast. With a flash of white light, the quill transforms into a piece of parchment, identical to the one we found in the Artefact Room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I unroll the note. “‘Proceed to the library corridor. Transfigure this note back into a black quill and return it to the Gryffindor common room. Failure to follow your instructions will result in severe punishment. -R’.” I look at Rowan. “The library corridor… that’s where you said…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s where the vanished stairs are most likely to be,” Rowan confirms. “Which means that R is investigating the vaults, and they’re getting Ben to do it for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben, and probably other students, too,” I say. “Otherwise they wouldn’t care if the quill was put back or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are we going to put it back?” Alana asks. “How would we get inside the common room? Doing it once was hard enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll leave it up to Ben,” I decide. “If he wants to put it back, then he can put it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sudden sound of footsteps on the soft carpet shakes me from my thoughts. Tulip leaves the dormitory, closing the door with a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>click </span>
  </em>
  <span>behind her. I look up, startled. I was so eager to see what the message said that I forgot she was here. I tell myself not to worry too much. Tulip deserves to know what we found with her help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worry fades away, replaced by a desperate urgency. “We’ve got to go. Now.” I’m already halfway to the door by the time Alana and Rowan get off the bed, R’s note still in my hand. I shove it in my pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My friends run to catch up, and together we walk to the corridor. I want to hurry, to reach Ben before it’s too late, but R’s instructions were clear. We cannot be noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As we near the library, the temperature drops rapidly. Our breath forms clouds in the chilly air. My fingers and toes are numb, unresponsive blocks of ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We round the corner, and I almost fall. The floor is coated in a sheet of ice, as slippery as a skating rink. The corridor is filled with massive stalagmites of ice, similar to the ones from the frozen room last year, only much bigger. At the base, they are wide and circular, narrowing to a point at the top. These pillars of ice are beautiful, smooth and white, but they also look as unnatural as they are. The points are sharp, the bases too round, the sides too smooth. All of them are identical. There are no imperfections, no irregularities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We slide, rather than walk, through the forest of ice, alert for any sign of Ben. Even here, out of sight of everyone, the ice forbids the urgency we long to have. The floor is too treacherous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems like an eternity before we catch sight of Ben, although it’s probably no more than a few minutes. He’s encased in a block of ice. No part of him pokes out. The stalagmite holding him is identical in every way to those surrounding it. One of many. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I draw my wand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Flipendo!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s the spell we used to break the ice last year. This time, though, the ice doesn’t so much as crack. It’s too strong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana and Rowan try as well, but they also can do nothing. I whip around to face Rowan. “Find one of the professors.” I don’t care what R said, I’m not leaving my friend to die in a block of ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan nods and slides away. She goes as fast as she can, but even that speed seems painfully slow.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Flipendo!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I strike at the ice again and again, but it’s surface remains perfect, taunting me. Ben’s face stares at me through the ice. His eyes are closed, but his mouth is slightly open. Maybe he was frozen in the middle of a cry for help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small, traitorous voice in my head whispers that I can do nothing for him now, that I’m too late. I grit my teeth. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know that for sure. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I strike at the ice harder, and a small crack appears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me try,” a voice says behind us. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Professor McGonagall. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I almost start crying in relief. I’ve never been so happy to see a professor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana and I lower our wands and step away, letting Professor McGonagall get closer. She studies the ice intently. I bite back a question. I can’t distract her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Incendio,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Professor McGonagall says, pointing her wand at the ice encasing Ben. A jet of fire pours from the tip, slowly melting the ice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Water drips onto the floor, forming a puddle. Professor McGonagall holds the fire until only a thin layer of ice is left surrounding Ben. This she breaks with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Flipendo.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s limp form topples to the ground. He’s pale and shivering. Even though he’s freed from the ice, he hasn’t woken up, but at least he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Professor McGonagall says another spell, one that sends out a warm gust of air and dries Ben’s robes. She carefully picks him up. “I need to get Mister Copper to the Hospital Wing. You should return to your common room. I will let you know when he wakes.”</span>
</p><p>I nod reluctantly. I know from experience that Madam Pomfrey doesn’t like her patients getting visitors, and if we accompany Ben now, she’ll only shoo us away.</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and I would suggest learning </span>
  <em>
    <span>Incendio,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Professor McGonagall adds. “It’s a useful spell, and I have a feeling you’ll be needing it soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look at her in shock, but she’s already sliding away, Ben in her arms. In a roundabout way, did she just give me permission to go looking for the first vault?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Revelio</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The week drags on with no news of Ben. I visit the Hospital Wing every day, but Madam Pomfrey never lets me past the door. “I can assure you that Mister Copper will be fine, Miss Serantos,” she assures me. “I will let you know when he is ready to receive visitors. Now, don’t you have class to go to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look past her, to where Ben lies pale and unmoving. He’s too far away for me to see any improvement. “Yes,” I admit, hurrying off to whatever class I have next, only to return the next day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madam Pomfrey’s response never changes. She never has any bad news, but I can’t stop fearing that we left Ben in that ice for too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I visit the hospital wing once again after classes that day, expecting to be turned away yet again. “Mister Copper is awake,” Madam Pomfrey informs me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is?!” I feel a rush of joy, but it fades when I take in Madam Pomfrey’s solemn expression. “That’s good news, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but the ice has had some strange effects on him. A few days ago, Mister Copper started shaking and repeating, ‘can’t help them, can’t help them’, in his sleep. He requested to see you as soon as he woke up. I wouldn’t worry too much. I’ve seen stranger things in my time at Hogwarts,” Madam Pomfrey says, but her reassurance isn’t convincing. If Ben’s behavior is nothing to worry about, then why does she look so grim?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I walk to Ben’s bed. He stares up at me, eyes blinking and unfocused. He looks confused. “How are you feeling, Ben?” As soon as the question escapes my mouth, I wish I hadn’t asked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s been trapped in cursed ice for over a month. How do you THINK he’s feeling, idiot?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel… cold. Tired,” Ben says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I leave, and let you rest?” I offer. I have so many questions to ask him, but Ben’s recovery is the priority. There will be time for questions when he’s healthy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Please don’t go. I have to tell you something- something very important.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wait, but only silence follows his words. It stretches out between us, awkward and unbroken, until I finally speak. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben’s face scrunches into an expression of frustration. “I can’t remember. I can’t remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I just- I just woke up, and I knew there was something I had to tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’ll remember later. I’m sure Penny can brew some potion, or Rowan knows a way to recover your memory.” I wish I felt as confident as I sounded. If Madam Pomfrey can’t help him, then what chance do we have?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if my thoughts have summoned her, Madam Pomfrey hurries over to us. “That’s enough time, Miss Serantos. Mister Copper needs his rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be back tomorrow, Ben,” I promise. I leave without protest. My friends need to be updated on Ben’s recovery.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The four of us gather in the Artefact Room, pushing aside objects to clear a space on the floor large enough for us to sit in a circle. Thanks to our earlier visits, the room is no longer as dusty as it once was, but Penny still sneezes twice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once we’re all settled, I tell them what happened when I visited Ben.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan looks suspicious. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” I say automatically. Ben is my friend. Why would he lie?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he’s hiding something,” Rowan says. “Maybe he’s trying to protect us from whoever sent those messages…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m relieved that Rowan thinks Ben’s intention is to protect us, and not something more nefarious. “I don’t know. I got the feeling that we know just as much as Ben does…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish we knew how he got trapped in that ice…” Penny looks troubled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So do I, but just wishing will accomplish nothing. We need to figure out what’s going on with that corridor, but when can we explore it? We can’t wait until the next Quidditch match, that’s for sure.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>As it turns out, I don’t have to find a way to explore the corridor. It finds me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wake that night to bitter cold, and immediately know what happened. I haven’t been sleepwalking quite as much this year, only about twice a week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My pajamas are made of thick flannel, but even so, the cold bites into me like a sword. I can’t stop shivering.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lumos.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The yellow light at the end of my wand reflects off the ice around me, but it offers no heat. If I want to explore, I have to do it quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I skate down the corridor in my socks. I wore two pairs tonight, because the castle has been freezing, but my feet are still numb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stalagmite that once held Ben is replaced by another. There’s no sign of the damage done by Professor McGonagall’s spell.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s nothing here. Maybe I should come back later. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I shake my head and slide forwards. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just a little longer.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As I examine the back wall, I feel air seeping out between the stones. It’s even colder than the air in the corridor. The movement isn’t much, not enough to qualify as a breeze, barely more than a puff of air. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve found it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the cold drives me away, and I leave, drawn by thoughts of my warm bed and the news I have to share with my friends.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>It’s hard, explaining to my friends how I ended up in the frozen corridor last night. I’ve always kept my sleepwalking a secret. I don’t know why exactly, but I don’t intend to break tradition now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, I simply say that I’m good at avoiding Filch. My friends frown, but seem to accept this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know a spell that might be useful,” Alana says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Revelio. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Professor McGonagall taught it to me in our private lessons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So tonight, the two of us return to the corridor,” I say. Rowan opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. “A large group is more likely to be caught.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan nods. “That’s not what I was going to say. We’ve got to get to Potions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana checks her watch. “Oh no, we’ve only got ten minutes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I throw open the lid of my trunk and frantically gather my Potions supplies. We missed breakfast. Oh well, I’m not hungry anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I dash out after Rowan, who was more prepared, while Alana rummages through her trunk. Normally we would wait for her, but we’d rather not be late to Snape’s class.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of us take seats at the only empty table- Merula’s. Of course. Tulip is already in another of the seats, which seems odd since there’s an open seat at a table of Ravenclaws.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merula throws us her trademark smirk. “I heard you found your friend,” she says, but that’s all she has a chance to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana scurries in and throws her stuff down at the table with Andre and his friends. Technically, she isn’t late. Professor Snape doesn’t care, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re late, Miss Morgan,” he says, staring at her icily. I feel bad for Alana, but also glad that for once, I’m not the one in trouble. “Five points from Ravenclaw.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana looks down at the table. She knows better than to protest, although I’m sure she wants to. I know I do. What’s the point, though, when it won’t accomplish anything except stirring up more trouble?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today you will be brewing Strengthening Solution. The instructions are on the board. You may begin.” Professor Snape sounds even grumpier than usual. I wonder why he’s so upset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t had to see as much of you this year as last year,” Merula says in a surprisingly conversational tone. I’m not fooled. Merula doesn’t make small talk, not with me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s keep it that way,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her suspiciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So rude, Serantos,” Merula says, still in that fake-friendly voice. “What have you been doing this year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that even a real question? I’ve been looking for Ben. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Obviously.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“But not for the Cursed Vaults?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So that’s what she wants. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“No.” We </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>started searching for the first Vault, but only recently, and Merula doesn’t need to know about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merula smirks in satisfaction. “Good to see you’ve given up. You were never going to reach them before me. And once I find them, no one will be able to ignore me. I can prove once and for all that I’m more powerful than everyone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So that’s what this is about. Satisfying Merula’s inflated ego. I’m torn. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a response, but this could be a chance to learn something. “What makes you so sure you can reach the Vaults before me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m working with someone else to find them,” Merula says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” I look over at Tulip, wondering if that’s why she’s sitting with Merula, something no one else will do of their own free will.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Karasu and I teamed up, but she isn’t the only one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why aren’t they sitting here, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>elsewhere.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>There’s something about the way Merula says it that makes me nervous. Has she found allies that aren’t students? Is it possible she’s working for… R?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there brewing happening here, or just mindless chatter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I suppose, to Professor Snape, our reaction to his presence must be comical. Merula snatches an ingredient at random and dumps it into her cauldron, resulting in an explosion of orange sparks and an almost certainly ruined potion. Rowan, even though she wasn’t participating in our conversation, ducks her head. Her eyes flick back and forth as she scans the textbook at a furious pace. Tulip, an experienced troublemaker, calmly adds her next ingredient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I force myself to meet Professor Snape’s eyes. “As you can see, we are working on brewing our Strengthening Solutions,” I say. It’s a struggle to keep my face straight and the laughter out of my voice, but I manage it. Mostly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmph.” Professor Snape moves on, leaving the rest of us to finish brewing. Merula’s potion has turned neon green and is letting off a putrid stench. Whatever she added to it wasn’t the right ingredient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gag on the smell and push my chair backwards, as far from her cauldron as I can get. Regrettably, it isn’t very far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know how Merula stands the stink, but somehow she abides it long enough to collect a bottle for grading. The rest of us finish brewing potions that are significantly better, and place them on Professor Snape’s desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tonight,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Alana mouths as she passes me. I nod slightly. We can’t put this off, especially not now that Merula has made it clear she’ll be racing us.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The ice has spread. The floor outside the library is now slippery, topped with little stalagmites that are no more than bumps. Where will it stop? Will the whole school freeze?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” I whisper, pressing my hands to where I felt that cold breeze. With gloves on, it’s harder to detect, but it’s grown more obvious since last night.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Revelio,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Alana casts, touching her wand to the wall. The cobblestones shimmer and ripple before melting away. Behind them is a staircase. It’s lit by a golden light from some unseen source.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana and I dressed warmly, pulling on sweaters, gloves, scarves and hats before we left. Not even all of this can protect me from the cold, which chills me to the bone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pull my scarf over my face. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lead the way, holding my wand up. We walk slowly. I try to walk quietly, but my breathing sounds like the rushing of wind. My heart hammers in my chest. Is this a Cursed Vault?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the top of the staircase is a corridor, lined with suits of armor. As we walk, I feel as if they’re watching me, though whether they’re wishing me luck or harm, I can’t decide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana gasps and points at the ground. “Footprints.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look down. A trail of muddy footprints stands out against the pattern of the floor. They’re too big to belong to someone in our year. “Who do you think they’re from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Let’s see where they lead.” Alana takes the lead now, walking alongside the mysterious footprints. We come to an archway filled with freezing mist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana draws her wand, determination hardening her eyes, the only thing I can see above her scarf. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Flipendo!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The curtain of mist is dispelled, revealing a hall made entirely of ice. Despite its elegance, it’s bleak, someplace living things don’t belong. I feel like an intruder, walking across an ancient grave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We climb the steps to a door blocked by a massive snowflake. I press my hand to the snowflake, sending cold searing through my palm. Alana calls out a warning, but I barely hear her. What’s beyond this door? Is Jacob close?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can feel a sort of tingling in my frozen fingers, but I don’t recognize it for what it is until a beam of white light shoots from the door. I jump to the side just in time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind me, Alana is not so lucky. The light hits her stomach, throwing her backwards. She lands at the bottom of the staircase in a heap and doesn’t get up.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is she dead? She can’t be dead. Please don’t let her be dead. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I reach the bottom of the staircase in one leap, almost stumbling as I run to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can feel a gentle beating in her chest, slow but rhythmic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s alive. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I relax, letting out a breath in a sigh of relief. The next breath is hard to draw as guilt tightens my chest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I shouldn’t have brought her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully, I lift Alana’s limp form. Every step feels heavy, weighed down not just by Alana, but by my guilty thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As I walk, carrying the form of a girl who may be on the brink of death, I make a silent promise to myself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Next time, I come alone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Bill Weasley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I drop Alana off at the Hospital Wing, stuttering out an explanation that I found her in the frozen corridor. Madam Pomfrey looks at me suspiciously, but doesn’t ask any questions. I’m grateful. I doubt I could say more without bursting into tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of returning to the Ravenclaw common room to find Rowan, I find the Room of Requirement. I’m not ready to face my friends, not with guilt still weighing down my heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I simply request a place to be alone. I pull open the door to reveal a small room with a purple beanbag chair and a window overlooking the lake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sit on the beanbag chair and look out the window, struggling to make sense of my feelings. My thoughts jumble together, forming a chaotic soup. I try to place the blame on someone, anyone. It’s my fault Alana was hurt by the door. And yet, she volunteered to help me. Can I blame myself for her choice? We never would have investigated the ice if Jacob hadn’t gone missing. Maybe it’s his fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t blame this on Jacob, but he’s my brother. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not Alana’s, not Rowan’s. This is my search, and I can’t let my friends get hurt trying to help me. That’s why I have to return without them. This time, maybe it’s no one’s fault, but if one of them gets hurt again, then I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>be to blame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stare out the window, unmoving, until dawn breaks. The tears have stopped flowing, but my face is still damp from a few I haven’t bothered to dry. I swipe my hand across my face, wiping away the last of the tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I leave the Room of Requirement, wondering if my friends have heard what happened to Alana yet. How could they? She was hurt in the middle of the night, and I haven’t returned to the common room yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wait outside the entrance to the common room for Rowan to leave. I pull her aside. How do I tell her? In the end, I simply whisper, “Alana was hurt”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan sees my tear-streaked face. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We found a hidden corridor. There was a door with a snowflake on it, and it attacked us. It hit Alana.”</span>
</p><p>People are giving us odd looks as they pass. I realize how strange we must look, whispering in the middle of the corridor. “Get Penny and Ben, and meet me in the Artefact Room,” I whisper. We need to be someplace private, somewhere away from the stares. Maybe I should offer to find one of them myself, but I don’t want to explain things more than I have to. Once will be plenty.</p><p>
  <span>I wait for my friends amid the dust and clutter of the Artefact Room. My attention is drawn by a skull on one of the shelves. I pick up, looking at it as if it might tell me how it died. It’s small, a child’s skull. Was it killed by one of the Cursed Vaults? What if we end up as dusty skulls, forgotten by everyone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan leads Ben and Penny in, interrupting my bleak thoughts. In a shaking voice, I explain the events of our search last night. Penny and Rowan look at me in concern, but Ben closes his eyes and scrunches up his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about, Ben?” I ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lets out a defeated sigh. “Just trying to remember… I keep feeling like… like there’s a memory there, but when I try to reach for it disappears.” He rubs his forehead, as if he’s hoping to shake a memory loose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I want to reassure him, but there’s nothing to say. Who knows when, if ever, his memory will return? In the end, I simply look at everyone else and move on. “I don’t want any of you going near that door,” I say. “I have to go back, because of Jacob, but I don’t want you guys getting hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not your choice to make,” Penny says. I’m startled by the hardness in her voice. Does she not like being given orders? Or is it something more than that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s understandable that you don’t want us getting hurt, but you can’t face that door alone,” Rowan says thoughtfully. Her eyes light up. “I know, you can take Bill Weasley!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of us stare at her blankly. “Who’s Bill Weasley?” I say finally, asking what we’re all thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s Bill Weasley?!” Rowan shrieks in indignation. “He’s one of the most powerful students at Hogwarts, and he’s sure to become a prefect next year, and Head Boy in a few years! He’s one of the most popular boys in school, and everyone says he’s incredibly brave!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you really think he’ll agree to help me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you should bring him a gift,” Penny suggests. “It’s what I do when I need to get someone on my side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right. Do you have any idea what he likes, Rowan?” I ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wants to be a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts,” Rowan says. “His favorite color is green, he likes mashed potatoes, and he likes dogs. Oh, and he practices spells in the Training Grounds a lot, so that’s where you should look for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know all of this?” Somehow, between helping with the search for the vaults and studying, Rowan has found the time to stalk Bill Weasley. I’m impressed by her dedication, but also somewhat unnerved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan blushes and doesn’t answer. “Tell him that if he needs a study partner, I volunteer,” she says instead. “Or if he just wants someone to follow him around, I can do that too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounds like you do that anyway,” I tease, making Rowan blush again. “I’ll see what I have.” I bought lots of extra books at Diagon Alley, and while I hate to give any of them up, I can always buy another copy.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>I sort through my trunk, looking for a book to give to Bill. Apart from my textbooks, I have a book about wandmaking and a book about the history of the Cursed Vaults. I also have a few books about magical creatures, as well as some textbooks about advanced curse-breaking. I bought them in the hopes that they would help me prepare for the vaults, but I don’t understand a lot of what they say. Maybe Bill can help me make sense of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I decide on a book called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Curses and Curse-Breakers. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I carry it to the Training Grounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A row of training dummies is set up. Someone has his back to me, throwing spells at the dummies and sending them skidding backwards. I know it’s Bill, not just from what Rowan told me, but because he has the same color hair as his brother Charlie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cough. “Excuse me-“ Rowan’s extensive praise has made me nervous. I think back to my first conversation with Penny, when I could barely manage to say two words without messing up. Popular kids and I don’t mix.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill pauses in his spellcasting and turns, lowering his wand. “What can I do for you, Celena Serantos?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m looking for the Cursed Vaults so I can find my brother.” I go straight to the important information. I see no reason to introduce myself through small talk. Either he’ll help me, or he won’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your brother was the talk of the Weasley household when the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Daily Prophet </span>
  </em>
  <span>printed about his search for the vaults,” Bill says. “I can’t imagine what I’d do if one of my siblings went missing. I’ll help you however I can.”</span>
</p><p>I breathe a sigh of relief. That was easier than I expected. “Thank you.”</p><p>
  <span>Bill sees the book in my hands. “What’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought you a gift.” I hold out </span>
  <em>
    <span>Curses and Curse-Breakers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have to do that,” Bill says, but he takes the book. “First, tell me everything you know about the Cursed Vaults.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He listens as I recount my experience with the cursed ice, from overhearing Snape and Filch discuss it to Alana getting hurt. At times, he interrupts to ask questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to learn </span>
  <em>
    <span>Incendio,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he decides when I’m done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now?” I touch my wand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now.” Bill shows me the wand movement. “Try it out.”</span>
</p><p>I flick my wand in a triangular motion, resulting in a small jet of red and orange flames. I can feel heat emanating from them.</p><p>
  <span>“Not bad for your first try,” Bill says. “How many dueling spells do you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Flipendo, Rictusempra, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Expelliarmus.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing you learned those on your own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With my friends,” I say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should have learned the Leg-Locker Curse, the Jelly-Legs Curse, and the Stickfast Hex last year, but Gibson didn’t do much teaching. I’ll teach you them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First, he shows me </span>
  <em>
    <span>Locomotor Mortis, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Leg-Locker Curse. I try out the wand movement. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Locomotor Mortis,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I say. The end of my wand emits a flash of purple light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill’s legs snap together and straighten, becoming rigid. He points his wand at his feet and mutters a counterspell. “You learn quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” I say politely. “So, you mentioned other siblings besides Charlie? How many do you have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six. Charlie’s twelve, obviously. Percy’s seven, Fred and George are five, Ron’s three, and Ginny’s two,” Bill lists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I do the math and figure out that if I can break all of the curses before I graduate from Hogwarts, the younger Weasleys will never have to deal with the threat of a curse hanging over their heads. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Slow down, Celena, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I tell myself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You haven’t even broken one curse, and now you’re hoping to break them all?!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought gives me a new reluctance. How can I ask Bill to help me with the vaults? What if he disappears, like Jacob did? I can’t bear to imagine his siblings, most of whom are younger than I was when Jacob went missing, going through the same loss I did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask. “You don’t even know me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you, I don’t like broken families,” Bill says. “I’m helping you fix yours. Now let me teach you the Stickfast Hex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sigh and watch as he demonstrates. How can I keep people out of danger when they insist on walking straight into it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I try to put my worries out of my head and focus on watching Bill. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Colloshoo, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Stickfast Hex, can be used to stick someone’s feet to the ground. It’s a very interesting spell, and I find myself thinking of all the ways it could be used in a duel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last spell is my favorite. When I cast it on Bill, his legs wobble as if they have no bones. Maybe they don’t. I don’t know exactly what the Jelly-Legs Curse does.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Finite Incantatem,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bill says. His legs return to normal. “Teach those spells to your friends. Is there anything else I should do to prepare?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Research the Cursed Vaults,” I say. Rowan and I have looked through almost the entire library, but maybe Bill will find something we’ve missed. Thinking of Rowan reminds me of my promise to her. “My friend Rowan offered to study with you if you ever need a partner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might take her up on that,” Bill says. “My OWLs are coming up next year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She also said she would be willing to just follow you around,” I add.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill considers this for a moment. “I feel like studying would be less odd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t mention that Rowan already follows him around. I don’t want to make a bad impression for her before she has a chance to meet Bill. Although, if he doesn’t like odd people, then he’s in serious trouble.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>When I return to the common room, I am bombarded with questions from Rowan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was it? Did you learn a lot? Did you get his autograph? Was it </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Did you tell him about me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laugh. “If you’ll give me a second to speak, I’ll tell you. I learned </span>
  <em>
    <span>Incendio </span>
  </em>
  <span>and a few spells Professor Gibson should have taught us last year. Yes, it was fun; yes, I told him you want to study with him; no, I didn’t get his autograph.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Celena!” Rowan doesn’t seem disappointed that I didn’t bring her Bill Weasley’s autograph, probably because she plans to get it herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What spells did he teach you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as I answer Rowan’s question, I’m met with another one. She asks me to explain everything at least five times, until I’m sure I will never forget any detail of my first meeting with Bill. At last, I stop her. “Rowan, I’ve told you </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If you absolutely must know more about him, then come with me tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do that!” Rowan squeals. “What if I say something embarrassing? What if he doesn’t like me? What if-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cut her off. “Rowan. Calm down. Take a deep breath. Of course he’ll like you. You’re smart and a great friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan exhales. “Maybe I will come with you after all. I can’t stand the anticipation. Did he say when he wanted to meet again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This simple word is enough to send Rowan into a frenzy again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Tomorrow! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m not ready! What do I say? What do I wear? How does my hair look- should I do something different with it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I can offer more reassurance, Rowan tears upstairs to our dormitory. I follow her and find her rummaging through her trunk. She flings clothes onto her bed, but seems unable to find anything satisfactory in her mix of sweaters, skirts, pants, and shirts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing Rowan, she’ll find Andre and ask him to make her a ball gown next. I stop her before things get too out of hand. “Make sure you wear something </span>
  <em>
    <span>practical,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I tell her. “We’ll be casting spells.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan glares at the clothes heaped on her bed. She starts folding them and placing them back in her trunk, leaving out a dark blue sweater and pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, Rowan and I walk outside to the Training Grounds. It’s a chilly day, and we have on gloves as well as our sweaters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill is already waiting for us by the training dummies. “So this is Rowan, I assume?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She couldn’t wait to meet you,” I inform him. Rowan nods eagerly, making her ponytail bounce up and down. I barely convinced her to tie it back so it wouldn’t get in her face. She wanted to leave it down so it would look better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to duel you today, Celena,” Bill says. He looks at Rowan. “I didn’t know you were coming, so could you just watch for now, if you don’t mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan nods again, bouncing on her toes like an eager puppy. If Bill told her to fly to the moon on a broomstick, then she probably would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nervously, I pull out my wand and position myself so that I’m facing Bill. I run through every dueling spell I know in my head. The list seems painfully short. Half of the spells are the ones Bill taught me yesterday. Bill must know so many more. How can I possibly duel him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan must see my nerves on my face. “Come on, Celena!” she cheers, as if she’s a spectator at a Quidditch game. “It’ll be just like dueling Merula, only harder!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My expression cracks into a smile despite my nervousness. “You ready?” I ask Bill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of answering, Bill simply begins. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Rictusempra!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he shouts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I dodge the flash of silver light and quickly retaliate. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Expelliarmus!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Protego!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bill casts a shield. The Shield Charm is one of the most useful dueling spells, but also one of the most taxing. I doubt Professor Jordan taught it to him, which means he must have learned it himself. He’s good, just like Rowan said. Very good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I keep moving, dodging Bill’s spells as I try to think of a way to get past his shield. He alternates between defensive and offensive, blocking my spells and attacking with some of his own. I try to time my spells, to hit him in that vulnerable moment after he attacks, but before he can get his shield up again. It’s no use. He’s too fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Expelliarmus!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>My wand jerks out of my hand. I make a grab for it, but I’m too slow. It goes flying into the grass several feet away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was great, Celena,” Bill says as I retrieve my wand. “You’re a great dueler.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. You are too,” I say. “How did you learn the Shield Charm? I’m assuming Professor Jordan didn’t teach it to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surprisingly, that seems to be the one thing she can get correct,” Bill says. “We learned it a couple weeks ago. I’d teach it to you, but I think it’s above your current level.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not like I haven’t learned advanced spells before- I learned </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rictusempra </span>
  </em>
  <span>last year- so maybe next year I’ll be ready to learn </span>
  <em>
    <span>Protego. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’d like to learn it as soon as possible. It will surely be invaluable in our dealings with the Cursed Vaults.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep practicing the spells I taught you yesterday, especially </span>
  <em>
    <span>Incendio. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ll tell you when it’s time to return to that corridor,” Bill instructs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod, my thoughts drifting to the door blocked by the massive snowflake. What’s behind that door? Will I find my brother, or a clue about his disappearance? Or has he simply vanished into thin air?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Cold Christmas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Temperatures continue to plunge at Hogwarts, but in the meantime, vacation arrives.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Weeks pass with no word from Bill. I practice my dueling spells relentlessly, until I think I could do them in my sleep. Rowan is eager to learn new spells, and I even persuade her to duel me a few times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana is finally released from the Hospital Wing two weeks after being struck by the door. Madam Pomfrey says that she’s recovered, but to my eyes, she still looks a bit pale. I insist that she takes the chair closest to the fireplace while Rowan and I catch her up on everything that’s happened. I tell her about training with Bill, and inform her that under no circumstances is she to enter the frozen corridor again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in no hurry to go back there,” Alana says, shivering despite the heat of the fire. I’m glad I won’t have to persuade her to stay safe. It’s bad enough that I’m dragging Bill into this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan changes the subject. “What are your plans for the holidays? My parents invited all of you over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I visited the Khannas tree farm last year. The house was a decent size, but not big enough for all of us. “Do you mean just us-“ I gesture to myself and Alana “-or Ben and Penny too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone.” Rowan smiles happily. “My parents can’t believe I have so many friends. They’re excited to have company. We don’t get many visitors who aren’t customers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We’ll be tripping over each other, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think, but I don’t voice this thought. “Have you told Ben and Penny yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan shakes her head. “I’ll tell them at lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right.” We spend the rest of the morning catching Alana up on the homework she missed. Even though she was injured, she still has to do it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana frowns as she pages through her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. “Do you think the job really is jinxed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Rowan says. “Professor Gibson was only around for one year, and I doubt Professor Jordan will stick around, but that could be just because neither of them is very good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it was jinxed, surely Professor Dumbledore would have broken it by now,” I say. He’s the most powerful wizard alive. I can’t believe any magic could resist him for so long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ve finished my homework, so I carry my textbooks and essays upstairs to the dormitory. Helena Ross is sprawled on her bed, painting her nails. She doesn’t look up when I enter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I place the textbooks back in my trunk and pull out a new piece of parchment. I can’t forget to write to Nola again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana is still working on her Defense Against the Dark Arts essay when I return. To make up for being an incompetent teacher, Professor Jordan has been assigning a ridiculous amount of homework. Since we’re allowed to work on it during class, it’s not really that bad, but it will be a struggle for Alana to catch up. Rowan is reading </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hogwarts; A History </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the umpteenth time. I think she’s hoping to have it memorized by the time we leave Hogwarts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I start writing a letter to Nola, explaining that once again, I won’t be coming home for Christmas. I think of all the Christmases we’ve spent together. Her family puts their Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. It’s hung with strands of multicolored lights that have to be attached to the wall. Every year, we would make new ornaments to hang on the tree. I brought one with me. It contains a picture of us in front of her tree. We’re kneeling in the middle of the wrapping paper strewn around the floor, with our arms draped around each other’s shoulders. We are smiling, showing off Nola’s crooked teeth and my straight ones. This is from the last Christmas before Jacob disappeared, the last Christmas when my world was whole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I smile at the letter, but now there’s a hint of sadness to it. Even if I find Jacob, I will never again be the child I was in that picture. If only he hadn’t gone looking for the vaults. If only he’d stopped searching once he’d been expelled. If only… I could wish for a thousand things, but none of them can bring Jacob home. Only I can do that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I finish my letter to Nola and write one to my parents, asking for permission to visit Rowan’s for Christmas again. Before going to the Owlery, I slip upstairs and find the ornament. I slip it into the pocket of my robes. It hangs there, not heavy, but with enough weight that I notice it’s presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tell Rowan and Alana where I’m going, and then I leave the common room. This year, I’m glad for the presence of winter. It makes the cold that pervades Hogwarts seem more natural.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tie my letters to the leg of an Eagle Owl and direct it to my house. Dad will give Nola her letter. I watch the owl fly away, wondering how it would feel to glide through the air like a bird. I don’t think I would like it very much. While I’m not afraid of heights, I never loved flying classes last year.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Boarding the Hogwarts Express makes me realize just how cold the castle has become. It feels like stepping into a sauna. How cold can it get before we all freeze? Which poses the bigger risk, the ice or the cold?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The five of us find a compartment together, uncomfortably warm in the sweaters we’ve gotten accustomed to wearing under our robes. Fortunately, we’ll be changing into Muggle clothes soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny is dragged away several times by groups of giggling girls who barge into our compartment. With all the interruptions, it’s impossible to discuss the vaults, but I don’t mind. The holidays are for relaxing. Besides, I can’t do anything until I hear something from Bill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We’re met at the station by Rowan’s parents and Finch, and I’m suddenly flooded by memories of how we got to the farm last year. “Are we taking the Knight Bus again?” I whisper to Rowan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan smirks. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We haul our trunks to an empty area of the station. Rowan sticks her hand out. The Knight Bus appears with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang, </span>
  </em>
  <span>as big and purple as I remember.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stan Shunpike, who I remember from last year, jumps out of the bus. He draws himself up, trying to look more important. Unfortunately, he’s standing right in front of the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening.” Finally, he steps out of the way, allowing us to pull our considerable amount of luggage onto the bus.</span>
</p><p>Just like I remember from last year, the bus is filled with an arrangement of identical beds. We search around until we find a large group on the second deck.</p><p>
  <span>With another </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang, </span>
  </em>
  <span>we’re all thrown flat on our backs. Instead of sitting back up, I roll over onto my side and prop myself on one elbow. Maybe this way, I’ll be thrown around less.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben and Penny both look slightly green, and I hope that neither of them throws up. Behind me, I hear the sounds of retching as some other poor person can’t hold onto the contents of their stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately, we make it through the trip without anyone throwing up. Ben and Penny both look relieved to see the Knight Bus disappear after we’ve gotten our trunks and Primrose off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana and Penny decide to share the bed in the guest room. I offer Ben the couch, leaving me with the floor. Rowan’s parents bring out sleeping bags for Ben and I, and we unroll them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My dreams that night are peaceful for once, filled with memories of Christmases that have already passed. As pleasant as they are, it troubles me to think of how few happy memories I have from recent years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We exchange presents on Christmas morning. When I open Rowan’s, another book, I swear I can hear Jacob’s voice in my head, wishing me a Merry Christmas. I duck my head and pretend that the tears forming in my eyes are from pure happiness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Afterwards, Rowan’s mum presents us with a plate of cookies frosted with red and green. I take a bite of one. The cookies are delicious, but what I really love is the frosting. Frosting improves everything it touches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I giggle as I imagine smearing a thick layer of frosting over Hogwarts and solving all of my problems. My friends look at me oddly, but we’re all used to each other’s weirdness by now, so I attract nothing more than that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The days until the end of the year pass uneventfully. Rowan’s house doesn’t feel as crowded as I expected. We alternate between exploring the rows of trees and helping Finch make slime.</span>
</p><p>As the clock counts down on 1983, we gather in their backyard and set up an assortment of Dr. Filibuster’s Fabulous, Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. Finch watches us, valiantly struggling to keep his eyes open.</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ten… nine… eight… </span>
  </em>
  <span>Finch’s eyelids droop. He shakes his head violently, as if he’s hoping to dislodge his exhaustion. I smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seven… six… five…</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rowan shifts the bucket of water in her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Four… three… two… one. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rowan throws the water over the fireworks. I look up, watching the explosion of white and blue and purple. Finch isn’t struggling to stay awake any more. His eyes are wide open as he stares up at the crackling colors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is midnight on January first, 1984. I am watching vibrant colors explode against a black sky, surrounded by friends I thought I would never have. I have so much, and yet so much is missing.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Facing the Door</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, guys! Year two will be over soon, and then we’ll be on to year three. I’ve started writing the next year, but I haven’t gotten very far. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be updating on Saturdays from now on. I hope you like this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bill sets the date for our return as the third week of January, during the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin Quidditch match. With all this curse-breaking, I haven’t been able to go to a match. The only time I’ve seen Quidditch being played was at Skye’s tryouts. Those seem like so long ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ice encompasses all of the second floor when we return to Hogwarts. Our Transfiguration classes have been moved until the curse can be broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The professors have no idea what to do about the ice. I see them whispering to each other in the corridors and at meals, keeping their voices down. As if there might be someone who still believes that they have everything under control. It worries me. If the professors can’t break this curse, how can we hope to?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ice is spreading faster, covering more of the castle every day. The Slytherin common room is blocked off by sheets of ice, so they’re moved to the Great Hall. The Potions classroom follows it, but fortunately there is no shortage of unused classrooms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look at the head table as I take my seat. The chair in the middle is empty, has been since we returned. Dumbledore is gone, and no one knows where. Panicked whispers speculate that he knows Hogwarts can’t be saved, that he’s made his escape before it’s too late. I don’t believe that. If nothing could be done about the curse, he wouldn’t leave us here to freeze. That still leaves the question, though, of where he’s gone and why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the day of the Quidditch match approaches, I grow antsy. I want to break this curse before too many people get hurt. The Hospital Wing is crowded with students who’ve gotten trapped in the ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Professor McGonagall stands suddenly. Everyone’s head whips towards her. I’m not the only one on edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Defense Against the Dark Arts classes are canceled until further notice,” Professor McGonagall announces without preamble. “Professor Jordan has fallen ill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fallen ill. Right. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We all know what’s really happened; Professor Jordan was frozen by the cursed ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I resist the urge to return to the door immediately. I want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do something, </span>
  </em>
  <span>especially since it seems nobody else will.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The day of the Quidditch match is clear and cold. I can’t remember the last time I felt warm. Even when we visited the Khannas, I could feel the cursed ice, as if it’s chilled me somewhere deep inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I find Bill as everyone else is walking outside to the pitch. “Are you ready?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I answer. My mind is already far from him, thinking about that door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We left the staircase visible, hoping that the professors would be forced to actually do something for once. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. I didn’t even get questioned about it, although they have to know it was me. I’m left with no choice but to put myself and my friends in danger to do their job for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s painfully easy to make our way to the staircase. The professors haven’t even bothered to leave someone to guard it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m already shivering, even though the worst of the cold is yet to come. I follow close behind Bill, one hand gripping my wand. The other rubs the clover from Alana, which I’ve taken to carrying around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We reach the top of the steps, but when we round the corner, Bill stops. I step forward so that I’m standing beside him. The way to the door has been blocked off by massive sheets of ice that stretch from the floor to the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Th-this wasn’t here b-before,” I say through chattering teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C-cast </span>
  <em>
    <span>Incendio,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bill says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A jet of fire spurts from the end of my wand, offering a small amount of relief from the cold. The ice melts slowly at first. Water drips down, forming a puddle on the floor. Then it cascades. The ice shrinks faster and faster as the puddle on the floor spreads. My shoes and socks are soaked. Wonderful . </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We haven’t even reached the door, but I’m gripped by a sudden desire to turn back. The image of Alana lying unmoving on the ground flashes through my mind. I would leave this to the professors. I know I should, but how can I when they </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t do anything?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful,” I warn as we approach the door. “This is where Alana got hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill shakes his head. “That’s the mistake you made last time. We’ve got to attack before it has a chance to hit us.” He lifts his wand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Incendio!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Incendio!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I jump as a beam of light strikes the place where I was standing just a second ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Incendio!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>A beam of light shoots towards my head. I duck underneath it before diving to the side to avoid another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I spare a second to look over to see how Bill is doing, and immediately wish I hadn’t. A beam of light flies from the door, and before I can dodge, it strikes me in the chest. Pain sears through me as I’m thrown backwards. I strike the ground, and then everything goes dark.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>My toes are burning. My ears and fingers too. The rest of me is numb, a fact I’m grateful for. Why? What happened?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I force open my eyelids. I’m in the Hospital Wing. Am I hurt? Of course I’m hurt. How, though?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wiggle my fingers. They’re stiff, and they feel like they’re on fire. That’s not right. I’m not hot, I’m cold. I’m cold because… because…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madam Pomfrey hurries over to my bed. “You’re awake, Miss Serantos. Do you remember anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>About how I got here? I remember… jumping… and there was someone else… “Bill,” I say as I remember his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Weasley brought you here a week ago,” Madam Pomfrey says. “I will let him know when you’re ready to receive visitors. Your friends have been worried about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A week?! That’s too long. I have to do… something important. Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>important. If only I could remember what it was. I’m trying to… get rid of the cold. That’s right. Bill and I are trying to get rid of the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes me another week to recover. Every day, I gain a bit more feeling. My memories return in pieces that I struggle to put together. It’s a relief when everything floods back. Is this how Ben felt, lying in a bed in the Hospital Wing struggling to remember who he was?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madam Pomfrey finally releases me. “You haven’t recovered as much as I would like, but I’m afraid a complete recovery is impossible with the castle in this state,” she sighs. “The governors have been talking about closing the school until this mess with the ice is sorted out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Close the school?! </span>
  </em>
  <span>We’ve got to get past that door, and fast. The next Quidditch match is too soon, only a week from now, but it’s become clear that we can’t wait until May for the one after that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I find my friends outside the Hospital Wing, clearly waiting for me. “Madam Pomfrey said that they’re going to close the school if the ice isn’t gone soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill looks somber. “I’m not surprised,” he admits. “Half the castle’s frozen now. People are getting trapped in the ice faster than the professors can rescue them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Professor Flitwick and his entire class got trapped this morning,” Penny adds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got to go back as soon as you’re ready,” Ben says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look at him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“We?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben shrugs. “You and Bill obviously can’t get past the door by yourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you said we have to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>back. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’ve never been to the door,” I say suspiciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben shrugs again. “Slip of the tongue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I narrow my eyes. After getting hit by the ice and experiencing its disorienting effects for myself, I was almost certain that Ben’s memory loss was purely a result of being trapped in the ice. Now I’m not so certain. Now I’m not even sure he’s lost his memory at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But why you?” I press. “If anyone else is coming, it should be Alana. She’s already been, and I’d rather not have anyone else get hit by the door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alana shudders slightly. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not get struck by the door again. Been there, done that, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could come,” Penny offers hopefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben crosses his arms. “I’ve been researching Concealment Charms. I can hide any evidence that we were there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why does that matter?” Penny retorts. “The professors clearly don’t care about anything that goes on in that corridor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look at my friends in confusion. Ben and Penny are scowling at each other, both intent on coming with us. Just last year, Ben wouldn’t even enter the locked room, which was much less terrifying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I think about Penny’s reaction when I told her I didn’t want my friends going near the door. She’s so insistent on not being left out of anything. Between this and Ben’s sudden courage, I’m starting to question my friends motives for helping me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan glances nervously at first me, then Ben. I wonder if she’s come to the same conclusion I have, that Ben might be working for R after all. Bill simply looks bewildered. He doesn’t know about R’s notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t we just let them both come?” Bill looks at me for confirmation. “I know you want to keep the number of people going in the vault to a minimum, Celena, but we need their help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right,” I say. “So here’s the plan. We have two weeks to train. If the professors still can’t get their act together at the end of that time, then we break the curse ourselves. Penny, Ben, make sure you know </span>
  <em>
    <span>Incendio.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan looks startled by my obvious disdain for the professors, but recovers to offer advice of her own. “Practice your dueling spells as well. Don’t forget about the Ice Knight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Ice Knight had, in fact, slipped my mind. “Right.” Because things aren’t complicated enough already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny looks suddenly nervous. “My </span>
  <em>
    <span>Flipendo </span>
  </em>
  <span>needs work,” she admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll help you,” I reassure her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I think of my first vision, of Hogwarts vanishing under a block of ice. With every day that passes, that vision becomes closer to becoming a reality. Will we be able to save Hogwarts in two weeks? Or will we be too late?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Training Days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day, I meet with Penny on the Training Grounds. Classes have been canceled, with so much of the school buried in ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun is shining, but it offers no relief from the cold. Winter should be giving way to spring. Instead, it seems winter will never end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Show me your </span>
  <em>
    <span>Flipendo,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I order Penny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She readies her wand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Flipendo!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The dummy jerks backwards in response to her spell, but not far. “Try it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watch closely as Penny waves her wand. “Stop,” I say. “There’s the problem. Keep your wand movement tighter, not so wild.” I demonstrate, moving my wand in a tight V shape with a small arc at the end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny tries again, and I offer more advice. “Loosen your grip. You’re too tense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watch her cast </span>
  <em>
    <span>Flipendo </span>
  </em>
  <span>over and over, offering advice occasionally. It makes me think of my tutoring sessions with Skye. I’m a pretty good teacher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, I stop Penny. “That’s good for today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny hesitates. “Can we practice tomorrow? I still don’t feel confident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” I reassure her. “Have you thought of any potions to bring?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm…” Penny considers. “Maybe I should brew a Fire-Breathing Potion. Meet me in…” She has to stop and think again. The Artefact Room is buried beneath the ice. “... the Room of Requirement tomorrow morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ben said he wanted to meet me in the morning,” I tell her, “so how about the afternoon?” I wonder why she needs my help at all. She’s better at brewing potions than me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I say goodbye to Penny and return to the Ravenclaw common room, where I find Rowan sitting in an armchair with an open book and a large glass jar. She’s sitting far from the fireplace, away from everyone else. With temperatures dropping every day, the area near the fire’s heat is always packed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I take the seat next to Rowan. “What’s the jar for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan points to a page in her book. “I’ve been researching spells to help you. You know the Bluebell Flames we use in Potions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can put some in this jar,” Rowan explains, “to keep you warm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” I take the jar from her. “You aren’t mad about never getting to go to the corridor, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I admit that I would love to see an unexplored section of Hogwarts, but… no, I’m not mad about never getting attacked by a door,” Rowan says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hesitate before asking my next question. It’s been bothering me since I was released from the Hospital Wing. “Do you think I’m being selfish, insisting that I go? If the others didn’t have to wait for me to recover, they could go right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wait for Rowan to confirm my fear. She draws in a breath and looks away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no. She agrees. I should tell the others to go tomorrow, without me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Rowan says.</span>
</p><p><em><span>No? I must not have heard her right.</span></em> <em><span>“No” and “yes” sound totally different, though.</span></em></p><p>
  <span>“The cursed ice is affecting everyone now, but last year, it was just about your brother,” Rowan explains. “You’re continuing your own private search in the middle of our bigger one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan hasn’t completely reassured me, but I nod and force a smile. After a moment, though, I let it slip away as another question strikes me. “How do you think the ice got released?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan looks thoughtful. “I think R forced Ben to do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I think back to our conversation yesterday, where Ben indicated that he’s already been to the icy door. It would certainly explain a lot of things. “Do you think Ben lost his memory from the ice? Or did R take it away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Rowan says. “But maybe setting the ice free was the ‘initiation’ the first note referred to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if R knew that Ben was trapped in the ice, then that would mean…” I look at Rowan in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rowan finishes my thought. “I don’t think those notes were left for Ben.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m silent. Just what is R up to? And how does Ben fit into it? “I don’t think talking to Ben will accomplish anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Rowan agrees. “Ben doesn’t know any more than we do. I guess all we can do is keep our eyes and ears peeled for any sign of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Be careful. R has eyes everywhere. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The voice in my head belongs to Jacob. I’ve heard it before, after we left the icy room last year. I don’t know how Jacob speaks to me. I don’t even know if his words are real, or just a figment of my imagination. I don’t tell Rowan about Jacob’s warning, in case she thinks I’m going insane.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The next morning, I meet Ben in the Training Grounds. “What’s this about?” I ask. “All of your spells are better than mine, so you can’t need help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to teach you a spell,” Ben says. “It’s called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Episkey. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s a healing spell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moves the tip of his wand in a circle. I copy him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Episkey!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no real way to know if you’re getting it right without one of us getting injured,” Ben says. “It can heal minor injuries. Use it if someone gets trapped in ice like I was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” I say. I wonder if we’ll ever learn </span>
  <em>
    <span>Episkey </span>
  </em>
  <span>in class, or if it was another part of the curriculum that we’ve skipped in Defense Against the Dark Arts. “Are you ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben nods. His grip on his wand tightens. “I’ve been training. Not just today. All year. I knew I had to go with you if I got a chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you still feel bad about not going into the room with us last year?” I ask gently. “You don’t have to prove anything. We all understand why you didn’t go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But nobody else was afraid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I look at Ben in shock. “You really think none of us are afraid of the cursed ice? Alana and I have gotten hurt by it, just like you. The only reason I keep going back there is because I have to find Jacob.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>And because the professors won’t freaking do anything, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I add silently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to prove I’m not a coward,” Ben whispers. “I let you down and I let myself down. I can’t do it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen to me, Ben. You haven’t let anyone down. It’s okay to be afraid of new things. Everyone gets afraid sometimes. What matters is that you’re willing to try.” I have to reassure him. I can’t stand seeing one of my friends so deep in self-pity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben nods, but I don’t know if my words have reached him. I want to help him, but I don’t know how.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The Great Hall has been sealed by ice, so the house elves have been handing out food in the courtyard. I don’t know how they make it, since the kitchens were frozen long ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I take a sandwich and a glass of orange juice from a house elf and carry it to the Room of Requirement. Penny is standing in front of the blank wall, clutching her bag. Her breath comes in short gasps, and her grip on the strap is tight. When she sees me, she relaxes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Celena,” she says. I wonder at the relief in her voice. “Ask for a place to brew a potion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I follow her instructions, pacing back and forth three times while thinking </span>
  <em>
    <span>We need somewhere to brew a potion.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>On the third pass, a door materializes in the wall. Penny pulls it open, gesturing for me to go first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sets her bag down while I find her a cauldron. The room is well-stocked with ingredients, but it seems Penny brought her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I watch as she starts adding ingredients to the cauldron. “Do you need any help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. This potion’s actually pretty easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pretty easy, she says, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think. We won’t learn this potion in class until fourth year. If it’s so easy for her, why did she want me here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny adds another ingredient to the cauldron and gives it a quick stir. “Now I just have to leave it over the fire for forty minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I notice that she hasn’t brought any food and rip my sandwich in half. I offer her part of it. “Want some food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I eat my lunch in silence before asking the question I’ve been thinking about the whole time. “How come you wanted me here if you don’t need my help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid of being alone,” Penny confesses. “It’s why I hate being left out of things, and why I always make a point of surrounding myself with people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I think of Penny’s nervous behavior when I first saw her today, her insistence on coming with Bill and I. It all makes sense now. “Being popular must help with that,” I say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does,” Penny replies. “I’ve barely been alone since I came to Hogwarts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon after, she fills several bottles with the Fire-Breathing Potion, which has turned dark red. She offers me a vial of it. “Drink this before we face the door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tuck the bottle into my robes. “Want me to walk you back to the East Tower?” The Hufflepuffs were moved there a few days ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny looks relieved. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We leave the Room of Requirement and start walking in the direction of the East Tower. We don’t get far. The end of the corridor is now blocked off by a familiar wall of ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny and I exchange a glance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This wasn’t here before. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I draw my wand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Incendio!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The ice melts, revealing that the corridor behind is frozen over and dotted with stalagmites. We make our way through, but in every direction, there is ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny grabs my arm. “Look.” She points at a nearby stalagmite. Trapped beneath the ice is a first-year Gryffindor girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Incendio.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I carefully melt the ice, remembering how Professor McGonagall freed Ben. When the ice gets thin, I crack it with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Flipendo.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny catches the girl and steadies her. “Can you find Madam Pomfrey by yourself?” she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl nods. We walk with her for a little longer, until she turns a corner and we continue straight. We have yet to reach an area untouched by the ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hagrid!” Penny calls the name of the next person we see. “What’s happening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ice has spread across the entire castle,” Hagrid says. “The professors are tryin’ ter contain it, but they can’t do much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The entire castle?!” I gasp. Penny and I hurry past him. “Find Ben and meet me at the door,” I tell her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Screw the plan, we’re going now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
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